


Bobby Is Kinkier Than You Might Think

by SabertoothKai



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bobby's House, Bottom Crowley, Boys in Chains, Crowley Being Crowley, Demon Summoning, Devil's Trap, Dom/sub Play, Gay Sex, Handcuffs, Knifeplay, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn With Plot, Sub Crowley, Summoning Circles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 14:56:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6012763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SabertoothKai/pseuds/SabertoothKai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crowley is a liar and a scammer. He is an asshole who only cooperates when he gets something in return, and he holds threats over others to get his way. Everybody agrees that dealing with the king of Hell is a pain in the ass, but Bobby has good reason to summon him. However, when things take a negative turn for Crowley and he has nothing to bargain with, how does he go about saving his own skin?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bobby Is Kinkier Than You Might Think

_“Et ad congregandom, Eos coram me.”_

 

The words leave Bobby's mouth as he drops the match stick into the iron bowl, the smell of blood and herbs and smoke quickly filling the underground room. Glancing upwards, the hunter narrows his eyes at the demon he had just summoned, his lips pressing into a firm line.

 

“You rang?” Crowley's brows raise, and he gives a slight pout, tilting his head as if offended that Bobby Singer would cage him in a Devil's trap. “You know, there are.. More..” The demon pauses for a moment, looking somewhat bemused. “Civilized... Ways to call.” He says flatly, tapping the heel of a dress shoe against the red paint on the flooring and letting out a sigh. “Always with you and the traps; it gets tedious, you know?” Crowley coos, his smirk directed at nobody in particular. “'Could at least get me a chair...”

 

Bobby raises his chin as if looking down on the demon (despite being nearly the same height), and he simply gives him a suspicious look, his eyebrows knitted together. “And why exactly would I want to leave you free and armed?” He asks, going with the conversation for the time being.

 

“Well..” Crowley adjusts his tie and straightens himself, looking very business-like. “I 'ave saved the boys on multiple occasions.” He points out, counting off the helpful things he's done over the years on his fingers. “I helped you put Lucifer back in the cage..” Crowley adds another digit, “Oh, and you're only walking because of me.” This time Crowley points a finger at Bobby and gives a charming smile.

 

Bobby only rolls his eyes. “Yeah, and I ended up having to threaten you to get my soul back. In my book that earns you diddly-squat.” He says simply, looking completely and thoroughly done with the king of Hell's bullshit.

 

Crowley just purses his lips for a moment. “Well, Bobby, I'm assuming you didn't summon me just to see my face,” The demon raises his brows thoughtfully before continuing, “Though, it is /quite/ handsome... So, would you like to tell me as to why you've decided it was a good idea to lock me up in here?” He asks in his heavy accent, creases forming around his narrowed eyes.

 

 

Bobby stays still for a moment, not saying anything before grabbing a silver blade from the metal tray in the corner of the room. The hunter looks at it fondly and twists the point lazily against the tip of his finger. His eyes move upward, though they don't meet Crowley's, as they are hidden beneath the bill of his blue ball cap. Bobby steps forward and gives Crowley a pointed glare, tracing a finger over the obviously sharp knife. “The boys have done everything you've asked of 'em, with the idea you'd get Sam's soul out'ta the cage, but yer just leadin' them on. I already know full well it ain't you who pulled the kid out, and that you ain't got the mojo ta get in and out of there in one piece.”

 

Bobby tilts his head to the side and shuts his eyes. He looks drained and tired; worry doesn't do good things for the old man, and being dreadfully hung over doesn't help matters much either. Honestly, Bobby hadn't completely thought through what he was going to do once he summoned the king of Hell, but seeing him standing there inside the devil's trap made torture seem like a pretty good idea.

 

Crowley rolls his eyes in an exaggerated way. “Oh, what does it matter? Sam 's a much better hunter without the thing anyways, Bobby.” He insists, crinkling his brows together, his dark eyes following the hunter's hand across the blade. “And if you're thinking about torturing me into it you're delusional, by the way.” He adds, gesturing to the silver knife. “A little silver is just a tickle compared to in there with Lucifer.”

 

Bobby simply shrugs in response. “Well, think it's 'bout time we hunters ganked you anyways, so, I'll do my best to make it memorable, sound good?” The hunter gives a curt smile and steps forward, moving to grab a wooden chair with shackles nailed into it before pushing it into the trap.

 

Crowley twitches. He knows he isn't going to be able to talk his way out of this one, but, since talking is what he does best, he continues. “Touching gesture, much appreciated.” He says sarcastically, taking a seat and watching Bobby suspiciously, his eyes following the hunter's movements. Crowley lets out a low hiss as the hunter pins and cuffs his wrists to the arms of the chair, and the demon's nostrils flare in anger as his ankles too are rendered immobile.

 

He curses under his breath and tests the strength of the cuffs, flinching as the silver embedded into the restraints cuts against his flesh. “Bobby.... We can work this out.--” He insists, losing some of his usual composure do to his lack of bargaining chips. Bobby just raises a brow and pulls his baseball cap off, running a hand through his thinning hair and pushing it back behind his ears.

 

“Oh, can we?” The hunter asks gruffly, stepping behind Crowley so the demon would have to strain his neck to look at him. “I'd assume you've somethin' ta offer me in return for freedom, then.” He says flatly, knowing full well that Crowley has nothing.

 

Now you can see the fear in the demon's eyes, though it vanishes just as quickly as it appears. Crowley takes a breath and speaks, his voice still just as even as always. “I'll deliver anything you want.” Creases form between the man's dark brows, and he taps his foot anxiously against the cement floor.

 

Bobby makes a face and presses the knife to Crowley's neck, pushing the collar of his suit out of the way and pressing the blade into the exposed skin until blood begins to gather around the metal. He stays silent and scratches a hand through his scraggly beard; he knows exactly what he wants. He wants to pay the demon back for all of the stunts he's pulled over the years; he wants to cut him for each and every time he earned the Winchester boys pain.

 

Honestly the hatred Bobby feels shocks him. He knows he has to deal with all of the monsters, and that they are all evil, but he's always had a certain disconnect from the act of killing beasts. His business with Crowley, however, is personal. Crowley had brought so much trouble to his family, and deep down he wants to make the king of Hell see just how much he had messed up by manipulating Sam and Dean.

 

This time the blade swipes across Crowley's neck, rather than just biting into the skin, and the demon's face scrunches in pain. “AHH! Fuck!” He yells as the knife presses against the sensitive area behind his ear and slices into the flesh, blood trickling from the wound and soaking into the collar of his suit.

 

Bobby feels something flare up inside of him, and he takes a step back, instantly thinking Crowley had just done something but realizing after a moment that the demon was unable to do anything other than flex his muscles against the restraints. “The Hell?” He mutters under his breath, his grip on the blade tightening to the point that his knuckles turn white.

 

Crowley lets out a breath as the pain fades, and his eyes follow the hunter. He can almost feel the anger rolling off of the man, but he also senses something else; something a lot heavier than just the rage. “What? Having second thoughts now, are we?” He muses, tilting his head to crack his neck just as Bobby turns back towards him.

 

The only difference with the next cut is that Bobby has completely lost his composure. Rather than just wedging the knife into the demon's skin he thrusts the blade forward, sinking it deep into the flesh of Crowley's shoulder. The demon lets out a low hiss and throws his head back, lost in agony, and Bobby curses loudly, wiping his hand, which had slipped across the blade, across Crowley's suit to soak up the blood.

 

Crowley takes a minute to recover, but when he does he scrunches his face and speaks. “What is _wrong_ with you?” He demands loudly, blood soaking through his silver-grey suit and staining it a dark color. Bobby seems to misinterpret the question, and he readies himself to get back to work with the blade, reaching out to pull it from Crowley's shoulder.

 

“Wait!” Crowley is still weak from the stab wound, and sweat rolls down his forehead, plastering his dark hair to his skin. “That's not what I was asking, Bobby.” He mutters angrily, flexing the palms of his hands against the wooden chair. “Why'd you slip? Hunters _don't_ slip.” He adds, explaining himself, just trying to buy some time

 

Bobby just shrugs. “It happens ta plenty of us.” He says sternly, looking at the cut on his hand. At least it wasn't jagged, so it'd heal somewhat quickly, but it was going to need stitches later on.

 

By now Crowley at least has some idea as to what's going on. He makes a rather disgusted face and spits out his next words with malice. “Are you serious? _This_ is what turns you on?” He asks in his heavy accent, suddenly uncomfortable for more than one reason. That thing he was sensing earlier, he knows what it is now; it's lust. Bobby, the scruffy old man who probably hadn't been able to get it up in years, was getting off on torture. “Gross.” Crowley adds, spitting onto the floor and giving the hunter a death glare despite his inability to do anything to save himself.

 

Bobby raises his brows and gives a incredulous look. “What?” He asks, completely thrown off by what the demon had just accused him of. “Like Hell I am!” He growls, grabbing the handle of the knife and jerking it back, pulling it from the Demon's shoulder and ignoring the growl of pain he gets in return. Despite denying the reality verbally, Bobby's m

* * *

ind was working furiously. The hunter can't deny to himself that what he's feeling is arousal, but he can certainly deny it to Crowley. He's a grown ass man for God's sake! His dick isn't going to overpower his brain!

 

Crowley looks down at his shoulder, watching as more and more of his suit is stained with burgundy. “Bollocks, this was new.” He mutters under his breath, pursing his lips together in a slight pout and acting as if the very distressed Bobby Singer wasn't even in the room. When he looks up from his ruined attire the demon's nostrils flare in surprise.

 

The hunter who had just been torturing him was now standing still with a red face and sweaty palms. He runs his fingers through his scraggly beard and takes a shaky breath, shutting his eyes tight in concentration. Of course Crowley pulls him from his thoughts by clearing his throat loudly and raising a brow. “Looks live you've decided what kind of deal you want, Bobby.” He coos, cocking his head and looking thoughtful. “I did say anything, so my bargain stands.”

 

Crowley opens his knees a bit more, though his movement is still restrained by the metal cuffs. The demon flicks his tongue over his lower lip and drums his fingers against the wood of the armrest. “No need to be shy, Bobby.” He urges, giving the hunter an innocent look. Honestly Crowley would much prefer sexual torture over the real deal, and if it saved him his life the deal was even better.

 

Bobby just twitches and narrows his eyes, keeping quiet but stepping forward after a few moments and leaning over Crowley, his calloused hands working to open the cuffs around the demon's wrists. The hunter is okay with the deal, as long as he doesn't have to initiate; he wouldn't be able to live with himself in the future if he actually came on to Crowley. However, he accepts because the thought of making the king of Hell his bitch really gets him going.

 

The demon smirks as the wrist cuffs open with a clack, and he twists his wrists around a bit, stretching the tense muscles before reaching up and grabbing Bobby by the collar of his shirt, bunching the fabric up in his hands and yanking the hunter downward with little restraint. “Pucker up, buttercup.” He purrs, closing his eyes, smiling to himself.

 

Bobby groans as his lips smash against Crowley's with force, but his tongue immediately pushes past the demon's lips, pressing hot against his cheeks and licking over his teeth with force, fighting for dominance. Crowley lets out a breath of hot air and opens his eyes for a moment, admiring the desperate look on the hunter's face as he starts to let himself go into the kiss. The demon's grip on Bobby's flannel tightens even more, and he pulls the man even deeper into the embrace as he accepts the submissive role, clinging onto the hunter and trying to catch his breath despite the tongue in his mouth. It doesn't work well, and Crowley is raking his finger's across the exposed skin of Bobby's nape, trying to get the hunter to ease up but failing miserably. The demon takes little breaths every time Bobby allows for it, and he lets out muffled sounds against the human's lips.

 

It's the second time the pair have kissed, but this time rather than being apprehensive about it the hunter is aggressive, pushing himself into the demon and grabbing his thigh with one hand to steady himself, kneading the area roughly with his fingertips and brushing his thumb over the demon's crotch in a teasing way. His other hand moves to cup Crowley's cheek, and his thumb slides between their lips, pushing into the male's cheek and pulling his mouth open wide, causing drool to slide down the demon's chin as their tongue mash together and force the saliva out. Bobby stays at an angle where he doesn't get as messy, but a clear liquid is dripping from the demon's chin down to his chest, shining against his pale skin soaking into his already bloody suit jacket. 

 

Crowley suddenly breaks away from the kiss and gasps for air, desperately trying to catch his breath. His face is flushed as he wipes the spit from his lips with his sleeve, sweat rolling down the side of his face. “Holy Hell.” He mutters, panting and attempting to push his hips forward into Bobby's hand, needing some sort of friction on his now extremely hard groin. Instead of giving the demon what he wants, though, the hunter just grins and cups his hand around the back of Crowley's neck, pulling him back in and giving him a more gentle kiss after proving he'd be leading the situation. Crowley honestly enjoys it, and he nips at the hunter's lower lip, letting arousal take over his actions, the heat making his thoughts blur together.

 

Bobby doesn't think too hard into what he's doing, since he knows just how fucked up it is. He figures that even old men are slaves to their lower bits, so he just lets himself go, his fingers sliding up against the back of Crowley's skull and pulling on the man's dark hair, forcing him into a more vulnerable position. The demon flinches as his head is tugged back and the wounds on his neck are forced to reopen, but he doesn't attempt to end the make-out session, instead rubbing his thumbs across the hunter's exposed collar bone and desperately swallowing down all of the shared fluids, which obviously satisfies Bobby.

 

Crowley growls and bucks his hips up against the hunter, letting out a needy groan as Bobby's tongue tangles with his own. He slides his hands down the man's chest, scraping his fingernails against the hunter's undershirt, searching for the belt of Bobby's pants and working furiously to get it unlatched, fumbling with the metal. It takes a minute, considering Crowley is still caught in the kiss and unable to see what he is doing with his hands, but he manages to get the thing unbuckled and quickly pulls the jeans beneath open, sliding his hand downwards and continuing to gulp down the spit as best he can despite being preoccupied.

 

Bobby's grip tightens on the demon's thigh as a warm hand slips beneath his boxers and strokes against his hard skin, rubbing roughly against the flesh and making the hunter shiver. He bites down roughly on Crowley's lip and then breaks the kiss, crouching down to unlatch the cuffs binding the demon's ankles, forcing Crowley to withdraw his hand. When they're open he grabs the demon by his thighs and lifts his hips, leaving him in a rather uncomfortable position on the chair, panting roughly but not resisting in the least. Crowley groans and works to get his own pants off, staring at Bobby with his mouth hanging open. The man pushes his slacks and underwear down and lets the hunter pull the clothing off of one leg, leaving it around one ankle and rushing to get on with it. “Fuck... Bobby..” The demon groans, spreading his legs open as Bobby props his knees against his shoulders.

 

The demon is painfully hard, and his swollen cock leaks against his stomach as the hunter runs his fingers over his skin. Bobby grins to himself and presses his lips to Crowley's inner thigh, his beard scratching the skin as he speaks. “Never would have thought you'd like this role in bed.” He purrs, moving his lips inward and down until he'd licking over the demon's entrance, flicking his tongue over the hot flesh and nipping playfully with his teeth.

 

A shiver runs through Crowley, and he tangles his fingers in Bobby's greying hair, his legs slung over the hunter's shoulders and his toes curled against the man's back. The demon can feel the heat of Bobby's tongue against his hole, and he moans softly, completely and utterly turned on by the wet sucking sounds the hunter keeps making against his ass. His cock twitches each time the Hunter draws his tongue over the flesh, and Crowley tosses his head back against the chair, barely registering the pain.

 

The demon slides a hand from Bobby's hair, forcing it up under his shirt and groaning, pinching his nipples as the fire in his stomach continues to get hotter. His other hand curls around his member, stroking slowly, pulling at the foreskin in all of the right places. “Fuck...” Crowley lets out a whimper and his entire body throbs, and his back arches as Bobby pushes two fingers deep into him, curling them inwards and getting him ready.

 

The demon jerks as the digits brush against his prostate, and he loses his balance on the chair, slipping off only to be caught by the hunter and forced onto his hands and knees with his ass raised in the air. It's a humiliating position, and Crowley buries his face in his suit sleeve as the hunter spreads his fingers apart, forcing the man open. The demon rolls his hips back against the hunter's hands, his breath hitching as he once again begins to pump his cock.

 

The fingers inside of him feel amazing. They're rough and thick, and they fill everything up, pressing right up against all of the best spots. “Bobby.... Fuck.. Give it to me.” Crowley mutters into his sleeve, not sure if the hunter can actually make out his mumbling, but coming to the conclusion that he probably had heard when the fingers withdraw with a quiet popping sound.

 

Crowley shivers in anticipation as the hunter rests a hand on his rear, spreading him open with his thumb before pressing his cock into the demon's skin, sliding it in slowly and leaning over the demon as he bottoms out, his slick cock buried inside of Crowley. Yeah, making the king of Hell your bitch definitely felt good, and Bobby can't wait to make the man fall even further apart in his hands.

 

Crowley rolls his hips back against the hunter, meeting with his thrusts and stroking himself roughly, precum dripping onto the cement floor as he fucks himself back onto Bobby, letting out shameless moans as his orgasm approaches. The demon's mouth feels dry, yet saliva drips from the corner of his mouth, sliding down his chin. He keeps letting out loud gasps and raking his nails over the cement floor as he rolls his hips, and his insides throb around the hunter's cock.

 

The delicious sounds Crowley keeps making only push Bobby further, and he quickens his pace, groaning against the demon as his hole clenches around him, driving him nearer and nearer to the edge. Crowley arches his back and presses his chest hard onto the floor, his hand pumping roughly for a few more moments before slowing as his semen spills onto the floor and his insides start convulsing.

 

He feels Bobby's member twitch inside of him, and he registers the hunter pulling out as he too reaches climax, pushing Crowley's hips forward roughly and cumming hard on the back of the demon's suit. “Fuuuck...” Crowley groans, his head buzzing pleasantly as he feels the walls of the devil trap shatter around him. He realizes Bobby has kept the deal and zaps back to his throne room in Hell, panting roughly and trying to gather his bearings after what had probably been the best sex he'd ever had. "Shoulda done that a long time ago.." He muses to himself, starting to clean himself up.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first fanfiction in over 4 years! Congrats to me. 
> 
> I decided to write this for a good friend/lover who was sad about being alone on Valentine's day. She mentioned that she ships Crobby, so I wrote her a little porn. I scanned for mistakes and fixed what I saw at first glance, but I'm posting it as is. I'll edit it to make it longer in the future when I can access a laptop.
> 
> Happy Valentine's day. Thank you for reading!
> 
> Please comment and kudo if you liked it!! I'm a bit insecure about my writing when it comes to my characters being in character, and since I usually write stories with OCs this sort of thing is out of my comfort zone. I really do appreciate comments and kudos; they make me want to keep writing!


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